074. Dark
All Of You
House preferred to have sex in the dark. Wilson knew why, of course. He'd felt the scar under his fingers when he'd caressed House's legs, you couldn't miss it really. It stretched nearly the full length of his right thigh and it was raised and bumpy.
And ugly.
There was no denying that. The scar was ugly. And what lay around it was ugly as well. Muscle had been removed in the operation and the thigh had this horrible, unnatural, caved in look to it. Wilson had felt that in the dark too.
He knew House hated what his leg looked like. It was why he always wore trousers or jeans or pants. Never shorts…not anymore. Even on the hottest of summer days House would be wearing trousers. And complaining about the heat. Wilson was the only one who would call him on it, tease him and tell him to stop complaining, that he brought it on himself by wearing trousers. Everyone else would just look away and scuttle out of House's sight. No one wanted to remind him. Something Wilson thought was ridiculous; House was reminded of his leg everyday…when he woke up, when he walked, when he sat down…every moment of every day.
Wilson didn't like having sex in the dark. He liked to be able to see his partner. Which is why he'd turned on the light tonight when he climbed into bed. When House had complained, he'd silenced him with a kiss, then a second kiss when the first didn't work. And he'd ignored the strangled sound and abortive movement House had made when he'd pushed the sheets back to reveal the offending limb, silencing and stilling his lover when he delicately and so lovingly caressed that ugly scar.
When he'd raised his head, he'd found House watching him with a mix of anguish, incredulity and desperation and he'd smiled. House had flinched at that and confusion had entered his mix of emotions. Wilson then caressed the thigh again before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the scar, feeling House shudder underneath him.
He looked up again and saw a single tear slipping from the corner of House's eye. He smiled again and crawled up so that he was lying on top of his lover.
"I love all of you," he said matter-of-factly.
"I can't," House replied shakily.
"I know," Wilson said calmly. "I'll do it for you."
He felt House shudder again then he was being held a fierce embrace. He gently stroked House's face; he knew Stacy had never been able to look at what she had done and that Cuddy only saw her guilt and failure written in that scar. But he knew he could look at House's leg and see past it to the man; broken, twisted and bitter but a man nonetheless. One he loved.